The de Changy Sister
by Acton1842
Summary: Philippe and Raoul’s youngest sister comes to terms with the events of PotO, but she has her own problems to deal with… Not E/OC! Book based.


_A/N-__** Warning**__, involves some violence. If you think that the rating needs to be ammended please PM me. Thank you. L x_

_The de Changy sister__- Philippe and Raoul's youngest sister comes to terms with the events of PotO, but she has her own problems to deal with…_

* * *

_Red_

The Vicomtess de Noailles read the letter again.

She sat alone in the villa on the Brittany coast. The sea swelled and crashed just outside her window. She liked the sound of the sea. It reminded her of her brother. Her brother…

She read the letter again.

Unconsciously her hands moved to another piece of paper that was lying in her lap. A death certificate. There was a note attached that requested her presence at the Paris mortuary. Apparently the police had some new sort of system. 'Formal identification' they called it.

Lizette had received her letters a week ago. One was from her brother, Raoul, so she had opened it first. The other was from the Paris police. She was glad she had opened her brother's letter first, otherwise she would not have believed what the police where telling her.

Her brother was dead.

Not Raoul, her older brother Philippe. He had been found drowned in the cellars of the Paris opera. And now Raoul was in trouble.

She had known of his involvement with the opera singer long before the rest of the family did. In truth, she couldn't have been happier for him. Lizette had become a champion of true love ever since her own marriage had been less then a dream come true.

When Philippe had been found, the only suspect the Police could think of was Raoul, and they had invented some sordid story. According to them, there had been a love triangle between the two brothers and the ill-fated opera singer. Raoul had drowned Philippe because the elder brother had tried to stop the young lovers eloping out of his own jealousy and pride.

It wasn't like that.

The thought of her brother's lives being marred in such a way made Lizette blush with rage and shame. They did not deserve this.

That was why she had called her husband to her. Away form work, away from Paris, away from the shame. She needed him.

The Vicomte and Viscountess de Noailles had not been as close as Lizette would have liked. At first their love has blossomed like a young rose but now it appeared withered away. They had met at one of the high society balls when Lizette was still quite new to love. Her elder sister, Sofie, had just become engaged and was full of the joys of love. Lizette was eager to follow in her sister's footsteps and know of the happiness of which she spoke. Adrian de Noailles was tall and dark, charming and rich; the perfect image of a knight in shining armour. He promised her utter devotion, untold love and Lizette had believed him completely.

They were married within a year.

Lizette had believed herself to be truly happy. The couple honeymooned in Italy and Florence, all the places Lizette wished to see. Adrian was handsome and loving. He bought wonderful things for her, gowns, jewels and any trinket her heart desired. He presented her at all of the balls and functions as his smiling, French bride. And when the night came he loved her well.

When the honeymoon was over Adrian brought his young bride to this beautiful villa on the Brittany coast. There he left her to go to work in the various cities, always retuning to the arms of his little French bride.

Lizette fulfilled the duties of a wife well. She was presentable, kind and indulgent of his long absences for work. She never scolded or complained that she saw very little of her husband, wrote regularly and defended his actions. But there was one duty she couldn't fulfil… After a year and a half of marriage, she had still not produced an heir.

This was something that did not worry Lizette as much as it should have. She still quite young; at twenty-four she was still a year younger than the age at which her mother had Philippe. But Adrian did not see it that way.

One night he had returned from Paris reeking of whiskey and foreign perfume. He shouted at her, berated her, but most of all he let the fists do the talking. That night he forced his weight on her so hard she thought he might kill her with the pain. He laughed at her fear and drove deeper, seemingly enjoying her cries for mercy. Why shouldn't he use her as any husband might? He body was no longer her possession, it was his to use any way he pleased, and he let her know it.

He left her without a word as she sobbed and bled on the silken sheets. When he retuned three months later she tried to be soft and yielding to his will, but she was still ripped and torn inside and he was dead behind the eyes.

Then he started to leave for longer intervals at a time. The last time he left was nearly a year ago.

But now, Lizette needed her husband; they could hide from her family's shame together.

There was a knock at the door and a small maid entered, "Madame, Mousier le Vicomte is here to see you"

"Thank you Marie" Lizette uttered in a voice that was more cracked then she had expected. Suddenly she found herself quite nervous at the prospect of seeing her husband again.

She took a turn about the room in order to calm her nerves. In truth, writing to her husband had not been her original plan. She had thought first of writing to her sister. But then she reasoned, Sofie was many days away, living in America. The last she had heard from her, she was expecting yet another child. No, she could not ask Sofie to travel so far, with a babe in arms and the rest of her young family in tow.

Instead she wrote two letters, one for Sofie, the other for her brother in law and addressed them both to him. She asked him to break the news of Phillipe's death to her but not to divulge any of the details of Raoul's elopement, or the fact that he was wanted for murder. She left the decision of telling Sofie to her husband. He would be able to pick the right time, she trusted her brother-in-law more than her own husband.

Lizette wished that Philippe were with her so much her heart ached. He was the eldest by far and had seen the family through the roughest of times. When Philippe was twelve and Sofie was still a babe their other sibling Charles had been involved in a boating accident. Sofie, Lizette and Philippe often went to the six-year-olds grave when they where younger. Their mother said that Charles was away, playing with the angels. The realisation that two of her bothers had drowned hit Lizette hard and unexpectedly. She turned her back on the sea, angry with the element for taking two of her brothers, and for helping transport the other so far away from her.

The door scraped open

"Lizette" he husband's voice brought her out of her revive

"Adrian" she took a step towards him, meaning to embrace him. But when he didn't respond she stopped in her tracks. "I'm glad you've come"

"I had no choice. All of Paris is talking" he spoke with no emotion in his voice, "the de Changy name is mud"

"I'm sorry" the words escaped Lizette lips before she could stop them. She wasn't sorry; it had nothing to do with her. But Adrian was staring at her with such an accusing eye that she felt she had to apologise.

He walked to the window and closed it. Lizette did not even move her eyes. She felt so small.

"Are you going to Paris?" he finally asked

"I have to. The need me to look at..." she choked and then instantly blushed, ashamed of showing weakness.

"Have you sent word to your sister?"

"Yes, but she is with child. I asked her husband not to mention Raoul. I don't want to harm her or the baby. She's in no fit sate to deal with this." speaking about her sister's child made Lizette blush with shame again. The memory of that night still burned in her mind, and on her cheeks.

There was a silence

"What are they saying in Paris?" she finally asked

"That the de Changys are in shame. That you are all murderers and liars. You have brought shame on me Lizette"

"No, Adrian"

"Yes, my clients will not listen to me; they know who you are"

Lizette felt foolish yet again. Of course, no one would want to do business, whatever it was, with a man married into a shamed family such as her. She just couldn't imagine that everyone in Paris would be so fickle.

"What about the de Changy estate?" the tone of Adrian's voice had changed to something that Lizette did not quite recognise.

"I'll have to arrange it when I get to Paris. I don't know if Philippe made a will. I doubt it. He would not have expected to die…" he voice cracked again, but this time, Lizette was beyond shame.

"You will be the Comtesse" he said with the same tone

"Perhaps. It depends on Sofie, the lawyers…"

"It would make me the Comte" his far away tone made Lizette un-sure that Adrian was listening to her

"No it wouldn't, the title would go to me," she affirmed

"You can change that"

"Perhaps. But I wouldn't"

There was a flash of anger, suddenly familiar, in her husband's eyes, "Why not?"

"I don't see why I should"

"I'm your husband"

"And my equal. Except we're not are we?" all of the anger from the past few days suddenly flared up in Lizette, "for ages you've kept me locked up here. You haven't spoken to me for nearly a year! When you do see fit to speak to me, it is not to console me as a good husband should, but to try and lay your hands on my inheritance!"

"You shouldn't speak like that!"

"Why not! It's the truth!"

"Your family are all liars and cheats"

"You're the one who is lying"

"Raoul is a murderer!"

"You treat me like a whore! I know what you do in Paris Adrian. I am not deaf or blind, and neither was Philippe. Do you honestly think that he didn't warn me of your 'exploits'? I know all about the gambling, the arrests and the women. But like a fool I defended you!"

"Your brother was a dishonest cheat. I only married you because I was tricked!"

Lizette stood in stunned silence, feeling like she'd be slapped. She wasn't sure if he was simply tiring to shock her into submission, "What?"

"You father tricked me" Adrian moved toward her in a way that was almost menacing, "he promised me monthly payments for your up keep"

"My father died years ago"

"And when Philippe took over the estate he refused to pay me. Your brother knew even more of me then he told you. When you married me I was penniless."

"But you said..."

"I lied about my wealth so that your father would let me marry you"

"I don't understand"

"I needed to net myself a rich wife"

Now Lizette understood "And you caught me"

"A dowry the size of yours was all I needed to sustain me for quite some time. Your family was gracious enough to pay for the honeymoon too. When your father died the de Changy payments stopped. Your brother said that I was rich enough to provide for you myself. He was always suspicious of me. He wrote you a letter stating that if you needed more money, you where to write to him and not to ask me."

"I never got a letter"

"I made sure of that"

"You weren't the one who was tricked. You married me for the money. All those accusations about the children were lies. You where covering your own back. You let me think I'd failed as a wife"

"But you haven't, you obtained a rather large portion of money for me" Adrian smiled almost wickedly.

"No I haven't. You are not laying a finger on my brother's money1"

Lizette was shocked to find she hadn't judged how close Adrian actually was to her. He reached out and grasped her around the neck.

"Who's going to stop me?" he hissed at her

His vice like grip only tightened as she desperately struggled against him. Then a wave of realisation crashed down on her like the artic sea. Adrian was left-handed. She threw him off of her.

"You're not wearing your wedding ring!" she didn't know why it shocked her

"How do you expect me to?"

"You haven't been just working in Paris have you? I'd heard stories but I never thought they were true. Philippe was right; I can't believe I defended you! How many mistresses have you got now? Two, three?"

"Does it matter?"

Lizette sunk into a chair, silence weighing heavy on her shoulders, unable to say anything.

Finally, she managed. "I want a divorce," she said quietly. She couldn't believe she said it. Neither could Adrian

"What?" he stammered. She nodded her head and he realised, "you can't do this to me"

"After what you've done, I can"

"But Lizette, my darling" his voice softened and he knelt submissively at her feet, "I'll change. We'll go to Paris and then move away. Go somewhere new, start afresh…"

But Lizette knew him well "You won't change"

His voice changed again "You don't have your brothers to protect you now Lizette, you've only got me. I'm you husband Lizette, your lord and master."

"You've done nothing to earn that right"

"Neither have you."

"Don't try and scare me Adrian. It's not going to work any more."

In truth she had expected him to hit her, but when it came the pain surprised her.

He shook her violently "Are you scared now!"

He grabbed her shoulders roughly and pulled her from the chair. Her head crunched against the floor as he forced her down. Desperately, she reached for the door, but he was faster. With a bruising grip he grasped her ankle and pulled her flat beneath him. Down went his full weight upon her, yet still she struggled to be free. She pushed against him with all her strength and kicked her legs out desperately.

"Now my wife!" he spat the words out triumphantly. Adrian knew he was in control. With a leering grin he reached down beneath her skirts and dug his fingers into her thigh.

All the fear, pain and shame of the times before welled up in Lizette so violently she screamed with pure terror.

Adrian thrust his hand over he mouth so hard she feared he would crush her skull. Both hands went down upon her face so her mouth and nose were covered. She could not breath. Adrian seemed to listen for something and Lizette thought with delirious hope that she heard footsteps. But they moved with painful hesitation, past the door and left Lizette to her fate.

He lent down on her "Now, listen to me my dear" he hurled the words at her, "We'll have no more foolish talk. You will come with me to Paris, you will identify your bother, claim your inheritance and give it all to me"

She could taste the blood in her mouth and hear her heat beat in her ears. She thought she would faint if she did not gulp down more air.

He took her forced silence as a reply in his favour

"I have some business to attend to, my dear. But when I get back I intend to have you packed and ready to go to Paris. Have I made myself clear"

Lizette nodded her head violently.

Satisfied Adrian removed his hands from her mouth and rose to his feet. Lizette gasped with the effort of breathing after having his weight removed from her body. He moved towards the door without a glance at her shaking, shivering form.

And then, quite suddenly, Lizette saw red. It was if all the anger and sadness and shame of the last few days exploded with in her. Her fear gone and replaced with blind rage she found herself clambering to her feet and reaching out for anything she could throw. Before she knew what she was doing. She had thrown a vase of lilies at her husband's head. But before it reached him, he slammed the door and the vase shattered into a thousand pieces.

Lizette, helpless, gave a primitive cry of grief. Her knees buckled and she crumpled back to the floor. The dull thud of footsteps echoed down the hall and she was suddenly terrified that her 'husband' may return. She grabbed a broken shard of glass and brandished it before her like a weapon.

The footsteps drew closer and Lizette braced herself as the door scraped open once more.

Lizette howled with relief to see the little maid Marie enter. The maid took one look at the shattered glass and her weeping, bleeding mistress and knew what to do.

"I'll fetch a brush" she muttered and disappeared once more.

Lizette rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, determined to apear strong and began to pick the shards of glass out of the plush carpet. She looked at her surroundings now with utter hate. She had been imprisoned here, unknowingly, for so long…

Marie was back with the brush almost instantly. She looked surprised as her misters continued to help clear the crystalline glass and broken flowers away. Her head, heart and body felt like the shards of glass now cleared away. She was in pieces and knew not if she would ever feel whole again.

She wanted to talk to Raoul so much. Of all her siblings, she had been most close to him. They had grown up together, reading fairytales in the Library. Except now, Raoul had rode of into the sunset with his princess and she was left to rot in the dragon's lair. He left no address. She had no way to contact him.

"Oh Marie" she finally said, "What am I going to do?"

The girl offered her no reply. "What would you do?" Lizette pleaded

"You want my opinion miss?" the maid asked, a little confused. The mistress nodded.

Marie took a deep breath "I would go to Paris"

Lizette felt disappointed, "You think I should stay with Adrian?"

"No miss. I think you should go now. Before the master comes back"

Lizette felt shocked and elated all at once "How?"

"There is a trunk upstairs. I'll help you pack. The other servants are out buying supplies. If you move quickly you can be gone before them or the master are back."

"And you Marie" Lizette begged, "You've been so good to me. You would come too?"

The maid bit her lip "I would miss, but I have my family to look after. My father is sick."

"Yes Marie, you must look after your family" she grasped the girl's hand in her own.

Marie helped her mistress to rise. Seeing the pair, it would have been hard to believe that Marie was the younger of the two, barely out of her teens.

"Come miss you must go soon"

"Yes" Lizette said, standing tall, strong again. She straitened her dress, her old control retuning "Yes, I will go to Paris. I will collect my title. I will clear my brothers name," she stated with authority.

Lizette turned around and faced the room that had been her prison cell for so long, her guilded cage. Then as a final thought she went to her desk and scribbled a note.

_Adrian._

_You know where I have gone. Don't follow me. I'll be there quicker then you anyway. Be careful what you accuse me of. Society will not look too kindly on you either._

_You have brought this shame upon yourself. It has nothing to do with me. _

_Expect divorce papers in a week._

The note was defiant, and social suicide. But Adrian may not realise that, and even if he did, she didn't care any more. As a final act of defiance she signed her name with painful accuracy.

_Lizette, Comtesse de Changy. _

She left the letter with the whiskey decanter so that he could not fail to miss it.

She pulled a small purse from her writing desk, "Marie, take this" she said, pressing twenty francs into the girls hand. "Adrian may guess that you helped me. Get as far away from him as you can. Can you do that for me?"

Marie looked at her misters in stunned amazement. Slowly, she nodded her head.

Lizette put the rest of the money in her dress pocket, careful that the money would be enough for travel and a place to stay. For she knew that once she reached Paris she would be on her own.

There was nothing for her as Vicomtess any more. And yet she was not so naive to think that everything would be all right once she left the confines of her prison villa. She knew that the step she was about to take might only lead her further into misery. But anything was better than this; it had to be.

With a final sigh Lizette de Changy picked up her letters and walked away.

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_A/N- So is a yay or a niegh? Do i continue or hang my head in shame? All feedback welcome. L x_


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